


You Could Make a Religion Out Of This

by propika



Category: Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF), NormalBoots
Genre: :), Gen, god AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 04:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propika/pseuds/propika
Summary: When a runaway kid meets a God what happens? Well, the God adopts him obviously.





	You Could Make a Religion Out Of This

**Author's Note:**

> GOD AU GOD AU GOD AU

Ian was a runaway. Running from his parents in the deepest parts of Texas after they rejected him for being himself. They kicked him out, with nothing to help himself, and told him to “figure it out”.

Ian was only 11 when it happened.

His parents were devout Christians (Texas was known for them) and believed God hated people like Ian. Of course, when they found out their son was going against their God, they were devastated. 

Ian didn’t understand. Didn’t God love everyone? Why were his parents yelling at him? Why did his parents hate him?

Ian does understand 2 years later. He lives in Seattle now, and just recently turned 13. It was his parents and others like them, who were the problem. Ian’s glad he left his parents and the homophobia they spat at him. Them and their stupid religion could shove it for all he cared.

* * *

There was a temple in Seattle where Ian was currently being held up in. It was a temple of a God that Ian wasn’t quite sure of. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his parent’s religion because the temple reminded him of the buildings he saw in history books. Greeks? Maybe Greeks. Whatever the case, Ian has been holed up here for 3 months, and life’s been pretty decent for him.

Well, as decent as hiding in a temple, stealing food, and washing clothes in a river can get anyway.

Worshipers of the god went around their business in the day, while Ian snuck out to do his thing. Some days he would go to the local library and read to pass the time. He thought about checking them out to read at the temple, but he needed money for the card: entry free was $5.00. 

Every Saturday, Ian would take his clothes and wash them in a river behind the temple. The water seemed to be clean enough (probably blessed frequently by the worshipers) to clean in. Ian stole soap from a Dollar Tree and was given extra clothes from a shelter after he first got here. He still clings to the purple hoodie everyday however, as it’s one of his only things that makes him feel safe.

Stealing food was hard at first. Ian wasn’t used to the whole “runaway” thing, but then he got practice. He usually steals from the deli across from the library, a place called Ritchey’s, to get his food. If Ian’s being honest, the owner probably lets him steal. Too many close calls, but everytime he walks away with something.

The temple wasn’t really anything to write home about. To start, it’s centuries old (Ian read up on it in a library) and it showed. Half the roof was gone, pillars had cracks in them from years of decay, holes were common in the walls (including Ian’s little hidey hole) and many statues of other gods were destroyed beyond recognition.

All but one.

* * *

The worshipers have been caring for this statue since the fall of the Gods over a millenia ago. Ian tried to find the name of the religion, but the name was lost to the sands of time. He would ask the worshipers but that would be difficult as a) he rarely saw them and b) they seem secretive with their methods.

The Gods in the temple used to represent the gifts given to man, such as, love, agriculture, beauty, curiosity, and amity. But with the gifts given, there had to be balance. The 

Gods also gave war, death, disease, hatred, and labor. There was one God that kept the balance of gifts and destruction. 

That God is present in the temple today. The only God left.

What happened to the Gods is lost to time, but Ian knows this.

The statue God must have ruled them all.

* * *

It was around 11 when Ian returned to the temple. He had two sandwiches, a clean set of clothes, and a pair of shades he found near the deli. The worshipers had left at this point and Ian felt himself getting heavy. God he was tired. He was gonna eat then pass the hell out.

Ian put his shades and clothes in his hidey hole, then he took on of the sandwiches and placed it on his pillow.

Time for the other.

Ian started a ritual when he made this his home. He knew about rent and stuff, they used to have to pay it back in Texas, so this was his way of paying rent so to speak.

The aforementioned statue was tall. It was, in Ian’s approximation, about 7 feet tall. The statue was dawned in a cloak, held a staff in his right hand, and left hand was outstretched. The statue’s face was disguised by the cloak, but somehow Ian felt that the God was looking out him. The outstretched hand felt welcoming as if the God was beckoning Ian towards safety. It was nice, and it may sound dumb but it was the first time Ian felt safe since Texas.

Actually, maybe even safer.

Ian hopped up on a stone that was at the feet of the God. He got on his tippy-toes and placed the sandwich in the outstretched hand.

“I hope you like salami dude. I know it’s not the usual thing, but I like it.” 

Ian hopped back on the temple floor. He waved back at the statue and retreated to his hole for his own salami sandwich. 

Delish.

* * *

It was midnight. Ian’s small snores provided a faint background noise for the person eating Ian’s offering.

Person might not be the right word to describe this being. He emanated light from his being, and his glow seemed to brighten the darken sky a bit. The emerald cloak was draped from shoulder to shoulder, covering the being’s face like a cloak.

In one hand, he held a staff that controls the plane he walks upon. Balance between life and death, chaos and harmony, heaven and hell, and forgiveness and judgement.

In the other, a half eaten salami sandwich given by scared, lost, and lonely 13 year old.

The same 13 year old the God now vowed to look over as a guide to the dark uncertainty of life. Also the kid’s got great taste in sandwiches.

**Author's Note:**

> strictly vanilla is the child i love on every other month im sorry


End file.
